


I Had a Cousin

by ChasingIQs



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Army of Ghosts, Emotional Hurt, Guilt, Heavy Angst, Light Angst, Minor Character Death, Smith and Jones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-21 17:52:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8254921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChasingIQs/pseuds/ChasingIQs
Summary: A.K.A. The First Page TestFrom ‘Smith and Jones’—there’s a brief moment between Martha and The Doctor as she reflects on the loss of her cousin, Adeola, at Canary Wharf.Martha is grieving and The Doctor harbors a secret.





	

 

“We might die.”

“We might not.”

A pause, ever so fleeting… just a breath.

And then The Doctor exhaled, “Good!” An invisible smile curling over his words.  

Martha Jones was making a very good impression. Very good, indeed.

You can’t judge a book by its cover, but you can make a relatively accurate assumption of the sort of book you’re about to get yourself into: The First Page Test. The test is as follows: read the first page of a book, if you are drawn in and wish to read further, you’ve got yourself a wonderful book. Read on ‘til the end.

Martha Jones’ first page was very, _very_ interesting to The Doctor. He liked her instantly. He immediately trusted her. She was sharp, spirited, brave, fearless, and endlessly compassionate. That was her flaw, he would later realize. Her biggest flaw was similar to his: a huge heart.

Well, actually he had two hearts and she only had one. But Martha Jones’ heart was full to the brim with kindness, empathy, and love. Martha Jones could find beauty and hope in the darkest of places.

Like, for example: getting stuck on the Moon, with belligerent Judoon hunting a blood-sucking criminal, all while innocent people slowly suffocated to death.

Even then, Martha Jones could find beauty in such a hopeless catastrophe.

The Doctor’s other flaw was his endless curiosity. This could be identified as the main culprit as to how he got stuck on the Moon with the rest of the hospital in the first place.

He was passing through to leave London—actually his intention was to distance himself from the entire Earth as much as possible for a little while. But his curiosity and his desire to help lured him towards Royal Hope Hospital to investigate the orbiting Plasma Coils.

However the hospital—hospitals being what they are these days—were rather unwilling to allow a civilian to wander the hallways, unsupervised, just to check into some static electricity. So he did the next logical thing: he checked himself in.

“Bad stomach pain.” He had complained. And, with a bit of dramatic acting, was admitted immediately.

But by lunchtime the following afternoon, The Doctor and Martha found themselves, of all places, on the surface of the Moon.

Martha didn’t even flinch when he pressed her into investigating outside…on the surface of the Moon…with _him_.

“What do you think happened?” She asked him quietly. She did not like not knowing what was going on, and she wanted answers.

 They stood side by side, The Doctor and Martha, relishing in the Earth’s light, staring over the vast, barren rocky landscape of the Moon.

The Doctor, already impressed with her bravery and unflappable confidence, decided to give her The Second Page Test. _I want to keep reading, I want to see what happens next._

“What do you think?” He asked softly. His voice silky and gentle, coaxing her imagination and inquisitiveness to life.

“Extraterrestrial.” Martha answered confidently and…unapologetically. “It’s got to be! A few years ago I would have sounded mad. But…that spaceship flying into Big Ben! Christmas! Those Cyber Men things…” Her words trailed off in a shuddering inhale as a lump in her throat clicked into place in the back of her throat.

She gulped, swallowing the lump away just as quickly as it developed.

Martha blinked away the memories of that first dark day when the list of the dead was released. Then the second dark day when her uncle had to identify the body, and finally the third dark day when the family scattered her ashes amongst those gardens she had once loved so much. She exhaled through her nose in a huff.

“I had a cousin, Adeola. She worked at Canary Wharf…she never came home.” Her heart squeezed for the loss of her dearly departed cousin.

Throughout their lives, relatives and strangers alike assumed they were twins. Science could explain the dominant genes which the cousins shared from their paternal grandfather provided the girls with the same dark chocolate eyes, soft cheekbones, and wild-until-tied-down hair.

When things got dicey at home…mainly regarding her parent’s divorce…Martha was consoled and comforted by Adeola and her family. That love helped her survive the otherwise hellish time period known as ‘The Split’.

But now she was gone; Adeola was now just one of the many whose name would be forever bronzed on a memorial near Canary Wharf. ‘ _The List of the Dead_ —In memory of those whose lives were lost for the survival of Earth, We Thank You’, it read.  

Suddenly The Doctor couldn’t breathe. A not-so-distant memory sprang to life behind his eyes.

A memory of cold machinery and icy metal.

Memories of mournful loss and profound emptiness.

Distant memories of loneliness…which still haunt him.

Memories of loosing Rose…

 

_* * *_

 

_Torchwood was in panic mode, something which they did not practice often. Ghost Shift had been ordered cancelled yet somehow it was still powering up. Through a breach between realities, the ghosts were marching. Millions of them. Harmless at first, but as the breach was probed again and again, the fragile shell between the realities began to crack. And the ghosts were morphing into their true nature: Cyber Men._

_Torchwood was no longer in control. Yvonne, try as she might, shouting commands and singling out the guilty parties for disobeying orders, was no longer in control._

_“What’s she doing?” He asked, fearful that he already knew the answer. He hoped that for once in his long life, he was wrong. Maybe it was because she was alone, maybe it was the way Yvonne fondly referred to her as ‘Addy’, whatever the reason, The Doctor had targeted Adeola._

_Yvonned pleaded with her young associate to step away from the desk…begging her to stop…nothing was getting through to her._

_“She can’t hear you.” The Doctor diagnosed. The Doctor’s hearts, already weary from fear, now beat in double-time as he began to realize what was happening. “They’re overriding the system…we’re going into Ghost Shift.”_

_His hearts sank even further. He steeled himself._

_“It’s the earpiece controlling them!” His memories flashing back to Earth Two and the tragedies unleashed by the Cyber Men there._

_Humanity erased._

_Imagination destroyed._

_Individuality robbed._

_Metal…everywhere._

_Heartless, cold machines replacing his beloved humans, one by one, in mass production._

_He wouldn’t allow that reality to bleed through to the Earth he came to love and know so well._

_“I’ve seen this before.” He admitted. He raised the Sonic Screwdriver to young Adeola’s ear._

_He paused, his hands didn’t shake, but his insides were twisted and knotted like fisherman’s ropes._

_He inhaled, drawing in the strength to do the unthinkable._

_“Sorry.” He hated himself for what he was about to do._

_“I’m so sorry.” The words sounded like he was reading Last Rites. A tone similar to what a hunter might sound like just about to kill a suffering animal._

_Then he activated his Sonic Screwdriver to interrupt the ear-piece’s signal…the same signal which was keeping her alive._

_His hearts broke. Not the first time and, sadly, not the last._

_Not by a long shot._

_“What happened? What did you just do?” Yvonne demanded, looking desperately around her laboratory which now contained three unresponsive associates—no signs of life._

_“They’re dead.” The Doctor answered desolately._

_“You killed them…” whimpered the voice of Rose’s mother, Jackie. The romantic interest of her daughter was now a murderer._

 

_* * *_

 

He was a murderer.

_You killed her…_

He was responsible for the death of Martha’s cousin…him and him only. The Doctor was guilty of Martha’s loss and it shattered him. He hated himself…he wondered if one day if he could ever forgive himself for the lives lost which he was responsible for.

His hearts beat in double time and sweat pooled under his hair follicles instantly; the horrors of his actions surfacing.

But here was Martha, standing next to him, marveling in the beauty of the Earth surrounded by stars.

Courageous and brilliant Martha, just standing there, awestruck by the majesty of space in the face of sheer absurdity and fear of their predicament; she was perfectly calm.

He wasn’t about to break that spell. He couldn’t shatter her reality again.

“I’m sorry.” Was all he could manage, his throat pin-hole tight. The agonizing, dying screams of Adeola echoing through his mind.

He tried to regulate his breathing. He was failing.

 _Don’t show the pain!_ He chastised himself inwardly.

 “Yeah.” She squeaked. The Doctor was studying her face intently—looking for any sign of cracks. Martha was holding herself together…so far.

Before he knew it, he was babbling again. “I was there. In the battle…they were…”

_Don’t let her see the damage._

Replace those dark days with new memories. Maybe he could offer Martha a trip in the TARDIS? It was a start…a chance to make peace with her…with himself.

Maybe one day she could forgive him.

Maybe one day he could forgive himself.

“I promise you, Mr. Smith, we will find a way out…”

The Doctor suddenly realized _he_ wasn’t in charge, it was Martha.

Brave, determined, level-headed Martha honestly believed she could find a way to get all one-thousand people safely back to Earth.

The Doctor blinked and knew then and there he couldn’t leave her side; she was indomitable and if she was anything like him, this usually led to trouble.

“It’s not Smith…that’s not my real name.” He admitted, realizing his honesty usually lead to strangers becoming companions. _Are you really ready for that after…_

Martha didn’t even blink…she was suspicious, _smart girl_.

“Who are you then?” She asked, inquisitively.

“I’m The Doctor.” He answered. This was turning into a Thee Chapter test.

“Me too, if I can pass my exams,” She laughed. “What is it then, Dr. Smith?

“Just _The Doctor_.” He answered again. Martha Jones was passing every one of his tests with flying colors.

“How do you mean ‘Just The Doctor’?” Martha blinked, intrigued, but still not completely convinced. He had been babbling on about Benjamin Franklin as if he were there earlier that afternoon; Psych had already been prepped.

“Just…The Doctor.”

“What, people call you ‘The Doctor’?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’m not. As far as I’m concerned you’ve got to earn that title.” Martha snapped, determinedly.

The Doctor allowed himself to study Martha very carefully.

She had passed all of his tests. Now it was time for him to pass hers.

“Well, I’d better make a start, then.” He allowed himself to smile inwardly. He could begin to feel their two timelines folding together within his Time Lord blood.

It was the start of a friendship which he would later believe he had never deserved.

Maybe one day she might forgive him.

Maybe one day, just one day, he might even forgive himself.

 


End file.
